


Delusional Sentimental Compensation Federation

by xxAriaxx



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Deco27 song, F/M, Love/Hate, MKDR, Mousou Kanshou Daishou Renmei, Oneshot, Relationship Problems, bitter relationship, bitter romance, just for fun, true feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 13:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10514550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxAriaxx/pseuds/xxAriaxx
Summary: We're the Delusional Sentimental Compensation Federation. We express our love and give our ideals, playing the melody of the fools with no place to go. Re:challenge, Rebirth, and teleportation, I see myself die over and over again, longing for an endless love.I'm so sick of love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's only been around 32 hours since I heard the song Mousou Kanshou Daishou Renmei by DECO*27, and I LOVE IT!! I ended up making translyrics for it, and I even went as far as to write this ;; I hope it's decent at least.

Delusional Sentimental Compensation Federation…

That’s what we became. It began only a short while ago, when I first asked that question upon realizing what our relationship has become.

“Are we okay?”

He looked at me with his sweet, caring eyes, and he would give the same answer.

“It’s fine.”

When it all began, I wished to be with him every second of the day. I refused to put off even a minute if I couldn’t be near him. This was love. I was intoxicated. Every day, he and I were together. We whispered sweet words of care to our ears, and I always recite his words to me:

“Miku, I’ll always love you. Never think otherwise, because I will not look at any other girl except you.”

I knew right away that he was the concentration to my carbon dioxide. This was love. He and I would be happy forever, and nothing would change. He would hold me. He would kiss me. I would snuggle into his embrace, and we would never let go. 

For months, I soaked deep into the mud pools for my dreams. They were all the same. It was all about him, my love. To make these dreams come true, I continued to keep him by my side. I stuck my tongue at him when he attempted to squirm away.

“You’re so selfish, Miku,” he’d tell me with a smile, kind and heartwarming. 

Regardless, I held onto him. I wasn’t anxious. I knew what the future was back then. It would be me and him. Him and me together in the future, with nothing to separate us. It would be a happy life. When the months went by, I still wasn’t anxious, but I had realized it.

There is no future.

Can I accept that? I always wondered if I would be satisfied with a bleak, meaningless future. I know he will be there, with that face I had always loved. Staring at it, I said I wanted to be reborn with that face. When the months went by, I pondered.

I knew it all along. 

I tried to look at the other side of hatred, to see if there was anything left for me and him. I would search, day and night, left and right, up and down, for a speck of any redeeming quality. I had high hopes for anything to be under the hatred that has tainted me and him. 

Even then, I knew I would never find a speck of love in the other side of hatred. When I accepted that realization, my feelings screamed to be heard, but I pushed them aside. My heart spins over and over, swelling up in pain.

“Turn the fat feelings into slim ones,” I would say. It was an attempt to ease the pain and worries. I shouldn’t question it. Everything was fine between me and him. So why? Why do I feel like this? Pushing everything aside, I decided. He and I should act like we did when we first met. At that time, we were so nice to each other. Everything was innocent, oblivious to the harsh reality that this was toxic. Those sweet memories, I recalled them and turned them into fantasy. I acted as if it was all a true reality and what really is going on is a dream, a never ending nightmare. Having been intoxicated by these ideals, I desired my blood to be relieved.

“Is it okay?”

I asked for the first time.

“What is?” He asked.

“Us,” I answered.

“It’s fine,” he said to me.

“I can’t find it,” I told him.

“Can’t find what?” He looked at me with concern.

“I can’t find love,” I answered.

If I had asked this at an earlier time, he would have said things like “I will always love you” or “love is between us” or “You’re having a nightmare. When you wake, love will find you again.”

Instead, he said, “I don’t see the love either.”

Delusional Sentimental Compensation Federation.

We began the Delusional Sentimental Compensation Federation. It was where our relationship headed. We were in a delusion, wondering where the love went. We were sentimental, feeling the longing of the past. We were compensating for what we have lost. It’s a federation. Together, we embraced the love and shouted out our ideals. I sang the melody of the fools who have no place to go. This was how it was to be. Our relationship was important. I couldn’t throw it away.

Re:challenge. Rebirth. Teleportation.

I had to linger on to the past. If I didn’t, I’d see myself die again and again. The knife always pointed to me, leaving its bloody mark on my heart. The heart bleeds, longing for the everlasting love I thought I had before. Within the pain, I heard a voice.

“I’m so sick of love.”

I tried my best. There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t control the growing selfishness within me. I tried to keep him with me, but I saw him going further away from me. When he finally was within my grasp, I let out another question.

“Are you angry?”

“I’m not angry,” he had told me, but it was no longer in that usual, caring voice. When I heard it, it was monotone and flat, nothing interesting like the melody of his from nostalgia. Afterwards, each time I spoke to him, I could no longer hear the sweetness of his words. They were no longer enchanting. 

I tried to wrap myself in my daydream, and I saw my days flash in front of me. Either a movie or a drama was playing. I saw me and him. We first met. We fell in love. We hugged. We kissed. We held hands. We vowed to be by each other’s side forever. I kept watching until the staff credits rolled by. In that moment, I decided not to watch again, for I knew everything was awful from start to finish.

“Is it okay?” I asked him once again.

“It’s fine,” he answered again with a voice less pure than before. 

“I’ll believe in you,” I have told him, reminding him that I always had faith in him, even when the love was no longer there.

Common Name: Affection to Any Age

The more I despised “love,” the phase I was in was protected. Within the bitter feelings, the phase was distorted into the correct manner. In its bitter distortion, it became the worst feeling. It felt just like an interpersonal lotion. A sticky feeling, it lingered in my foggy thoughts, clouded by the imagery of the many months of us.

I saw the images. I knew we were hurting each other. So this was what became of us. The pain inflicted mixed together in a love philosophy. 

“Is it okay?” I asked for the last time.

“It’s fine,” he has told me.

I remembered.

This was all a lie.

Delusional Sentimental Compensation Federation.

That was what we became when the love ran out. With nothing to do, we only replayed the love we once had by force. Trapped in a delusion, clouded by sentimental thoughts, compensating for our past crimes, and hating each other more and more. I was a fool. There was no way a love like this could never die. In our bitter thoughts, we embraced everything that came to us, facing our broken ideals that could never heal. 

I should have seen it all along. We stopped loving each other long ago. What we called “love” was only a faraway dream that was no longer obtainable. It has been challenged in our growing hate. It was reborn in our neglected truth. It teleported to the future where I saw myself die over and over. Each time, I realized that our love would never be endless.

Common Name: Affection to Any Age.

I hate love. My phase was set, distorted in the pain and misery from this toxic relationship. In the deliriums I saw, my knife was tainted blood, his body, crippled and broken. The thick aura of interpersonal lotion lingered in my body. Can I escape from this kind of love? I was unable to see a path out. My promise to be with him forever has chained me to this “love.” We hurt each other, over and over. The pain we inflicted to each other has become a love philosophy. 

“Is it okay?” I asked.

“It’s fine,” he said with a forced smile. 

“Do you want to know something?” I asked him.

“What is it?” He wondered with a dull look.

With sentimental feelings, I said my true feelings to him.

“I’m sick of love.”


End file.
